


Prompts

by brodylover



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Croatoan, Episode: s05e04 The End, Lucifer as Sam | Sam as Lucifer, Samifer - Freeform, prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-15
Updated: 2013-03-15
Packaged: 2017-12-05 08:49:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/721168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brodylover/pseuds/brodylover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I would love to get some prompts. Feel free to send them to me! I will write anything Supernatural, as long as it doesn't concern real people, megstiel, and moat AU's.</p><p> This first chapter is a prompt from wehavebecomeanathema, asking for Lucifer and Sam, or Cas, sitting on a bench somewhere and feeding the birds. Especially if Lucifer speaks to the birds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. White in the End

The sky was clouded over, dark ruts threading through the thick blankets of rain slicked skies. It had been a long time since the sun had shown, had really shown in what was left of this place. The man smiled at that. He hadn’t intended for that, but since his arrival it seemed that the sun was afraid to shine.   
The birds did not fear him, though, why would they? He tossed them bread crumbs, calling more to himself. Chickadees and swallows, pigeons and doves, crows and ravens, starlings and junkos, all hopped and bobbed towards him, happy to feed upon something other than death and pestilence.   
He held out his hand and a dove fluttered up to him, perched on his finger. He smiled with his stolen lips, the bird as white as his suit watching him, waiting for him to speak.  
“You do not fear me.” He said, “You do not shy away. Let me see your wings.”  
The dove rose up and stretched them, the half light bleeding through them so he could see how they overlapped. He stroked the patterns in the feathers, wishing he could feel that in himself.   
“Beautiful. Absolutely sublime.” He breathed. “I had wings like that once too, you know? They were just as elegant. But when I couldn’t love mankind like I could my father, when I fell, they burned away from me, turned to ash, and in the pit they were useless. But these, these are beautiful. You keep them dear, you hear me?”  
The dove fluttered a few times before folding the wings onto its back once more.   
They didn’t stay poised there for long. There were footsteps approaching, men with guns. The man smelled the air. Yes, an angel, just an atom of the smell of grace, a man covered in grime and sweat, an equally sweating but ovulating woman, and someone else. This man smelled like the dirty one but different, new, clean, soul still fresh from being torn open.   
The man stood as the birds took to the air. This body he was in, it was too small, but it was better than the one he’d squeezed into before. No angel can fit inside of a human comfortably. He was alone when the man, smelling of dirt and sweat approached him.   
He did not see the desire in killing someone, but if he had to he would. And this man, he was aiming a gun at him. He didn’t think it would kill him, but it would mar his beautiful white suit.   
He fell quite easily, unable to fight someone with his brother’s face. The man, Lucifer, was alone when he snapped the man’s neck with a white leather clad foot.


	2. saltyunicorn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer, who isn't the bad guy we all love to hate. Maybe misunderstood, maybe all the rumors are spread by someone else. Sullying his 'good' name.
> 
> In my mind, isnt that just Lucifer?

People don't like to stare. Children would be told not too by parents, it's rude, and adults would glance and then look away, trained for their whole lives not to even look at someone different. 

And Lucifer was different. It wasn't just the open wounds in his skin, around his eyes and dotting his hands. It was in his presence, in the eternal glowing flames of his soul, visibly but not at the same time, an afterimage. The stares slid off of him as he walked down the busy streets and it was if he didn't even exist. 

He ignored it as they ignored him. He was on a mission. He heard a sound, his name, and he was searching for it. He found it in an open square, a few men wearing all black and greasepaint, stereotypical goths with their silver and their upside down crosses and their cheaply died black hair. They were calling out for him, scaring the hairless apes around them, chanting out the morals of their faith. 

Oh goody, Satanists. 

Lucifer stood aside, the only person to stand and listen to what the fools were saying. Threats of damnation verses the joys of joining his army. His glorified violence and terror. His tyrannical torture and the fires of Hell that were coming to earth if they didn't bow down and spill their life blood. All of it was lies. He almost couldn't contain his laughter. 

One of the little punks turned to him though, saw that he was listening, and pointed him out. 

"Do you believe, brother?" he called.

"In Lucifer? Of course, I wouldn't be able to get up in the morning if I thought he didn't. But the rest of it? Oh no. That's just comedy."

The goth hopped off of his pedestal, walking towards him, glaring, "You saying that our faith is wrong?"

"I am. It's not your fault, my name has been dragged through the mud since I fell. But if you are going to try to worship me, you may want to get your facts straight."

"What?"

"I am Lucifer."

That had the punk cackling, clutching his sides. What a strange sound, a gothic Satanist laughing. It wasn't something that they did often. "You're... You're saying. You're Satan?"

Lucifer shrugged. It wasn't a name he liked. "I can prove it, if you like."

The goth was closer to him than was comfortable, the platform shoes making it so that he was towering over him. "Alright then, prove it."

"Horror... Horror has a face... and you must make a friend of horror. Horror and moral terror are your friends. If they are not, then they are enemies to be feared. They are truly enemies!" Lucifer quoted before putting a hand on the man's head, his fingers trailing into the thick black hair. 

He showed him, showed him everything.

There was fire, feathers ripping and burning out of flesh as he fell. There was the cage, the onslaught of terrors and eternal boredom within. There was the creation of the demons, which could leave the cage if they so choose and they always did, never to return. There was the boy, the true vessel, the one who had opened the cage for him, finally set him free. There was the future, the apocalypse, the ice coating everything. 

Lucifer let go. The goth before him was shaking, his greasepaint marred by the blood dripping from every orifice. He couldn't move, couldn't speak. Lucifer clasped him on the shoulder before bringing his lips to his ear. 

"So you see, I'm not the bad guy, I'm not the bastard you make me out to be. I am the victim here, always have been. I just have a job to do."

The other goths were at their leaders side, leading him away, staring at him for the first time, seeing Lucifer in the square. He smiled at them, sadly. as they rushed away. 

So many lies about him. He wished he could eradicate them all, tell these idiot humans what had actually happened, let them in on the truth. Maybe then they would look at him as he walked down the streets. Maybe then he would be more than just a scapegoat. But he didn't have the time, there would never be the time. And these people, they were flawed, he didnt need them on his side anyway.


End file.
